


Give It To Me - All Of It!

by Abraxas (Qlippoth)



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 07:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qlippoth/pseuds/Abraxas
Summary: Sam and Bumblebee share a hot drive together as part of their secret sexual relationship.
Relationships: Bumblebee/Sam Witwicky
Kudos: 16





	Give It To Me - All Of It!

Originally Published July 22, 2009

* * *

Sam struggled with the seat at the rear of the cabin. It was not long enough and it was not wide enough to support his body like a bed. He kept tumbling and falling off it, crashing into the two front seats.

"I donno, Bee, you think I fit?"

It was starting to look like a mission impossible but he did not want to disappoint the autobot as it speed along the highway already excited with anticipation.

At last, a mixture of practicality and wild, raging hormones discovered a way to enable Bumblebee's suggestion. His left arm was tucked inside of the crack between the seat's upper and lower halves. His right arm was atop of the floor supporting his weight. His legs were bent upward. His feet were against the roof. It was awkward yet stable.

"So - is it changing, Sam?" he asked sheepishly through the static of the radio. "Is it transforming?"

The engine revved and the cabin rumbled with its growl.

"Bee!" he gasped as he felt the vinyl caressing against the bulge growing between his legs. Pressing. Grinding. The upholstery was obsessed with it and that attention elicited a blush across the teen's face. He looked away at the only light within the cabin: the fringes around the knobs of the radio and the glow of its dial. It suggested the shape of a face. "You want it?"

"Say it ... please...."

"My sweet little Camaro!"

He could not resist the urge. He set his lips onto the vinyl. Sucking its fabric. Probing its texture. Tasting its flavor. A bite was followed by the autobot's revving and a round of vigorous, thorough licking. As the intimacy continued the seat changed - like it was melting and he was falling into its puddle - its love puddle!

Sam smiled wickedly recalling that puddle of oil Bumblebee left at the garage that day the human explored the alien's anatomy. The taste of it did not leave his lips, it flavor was etched like a tattoo. Thank god he did not swallow it.

Sam loosened his belt and tugged his pants below his waist. It was just enough to expose his equipment and press it against what passed for the flesh of Bumblebee. The machine was maddened by the contact and the human could not deny he enjoyed the twisted, perverted nature of it. It was a part of their secret.

Sam loved Bumblebee the instant he lay eyes on that yellow and black vehicle. It was the most perfect, most beautiful car ever. And that love only grew as the first of many intimate secrets were shared between them. It climaxed at the wake of the boy's breakup with Mikaela. It started with a sad, long drive away - anywhere, he told the autobot - and it ended with Bumblebee's arms wrapped about Sam's shoulders.

"I'll never break your heart, you know that, Sam...." Bumblebee spoke and his breath dried the tears.

Between the two something primal was awakened: curiosity led to exploring led to bonding. Bumblebee already tasted fragments of what a relationship could be with Sam's attention (the washing, the buffing) and at length the machine was freed to return the man's affections.

The freedom that first kissed unleashed! It demanded, by whatever methods, the satisfaction that could be reached only with the union of metal and flesh.

That new and different dimension of their friendship shattered barriers and revealed possibilities that neither imagined existed. Sometimes Sam suggested this. Sometimes Bumblebee wanted that. Ideas bounced back and forth. It was like an echochamber of the perverse. They invented the craziest positions. Orifices. Members. Fluids. All of it, every sort of combination, was experimented with. And, gods, the orgasms that coursed through their bodies - it was light years ahead of anything a woman could have offered!

The affair launched a thousand nocturnal drives.

"You spend way way too much time with that robot, young man," said parent A.

"And where do you go, anyway? It can't be safe! What if something, you know, finds you?" asked parent B.

"Ah, gah, you two! I'm safer with Bee than with anyone on Earth!"

Sucking and rubbing the fabric, Sam writhed spontaneously as the little head between his legs impelled a thrusting into that seat. The vinyl intensified its grasp of his organ. It was Bumblebee feeling every last detail. The autobot was fascinated by the way it 'transformed'.

"Is it changing, again, Sam?" the vehicle asked after revving its engine like a tease. "Come on, Sam, show me! You've seen my transformation, already, each and every detail of it...."

Sam blushed - then unzipped his fly and showed it off. It was semi soft, semi hard. It sputtered then expanded into its full length and girth. Just to tease he rubbed it against the rim of the wheel.

"My Camaro!"

Sam thrust as Bumblebee sped. The boy was so lost to ecstasy that he failed to notice his pants were tugged further to expose the rest of his ass. Exposure was followed by a pressure poking into his crack. It was Bumblebee's latest and greatest attempt at a penis - a mechanism under the seat that poked its vinyl up and through his legs.

"Bee!"

The car swerved as Sam erupted.

"More! More! More! Give it to me, all of it, Sam!" Bumblebee's voice was strained by the shudder of orgasm. "Sam...."

Now, exhausted and dazed, the boy kept still as the whole entire vehicle transformed. He started atop a seat and ended cradled against the chest and held by the strong yet gentle arms of the machine. A hand of metal and a hand of flesh met and latched onto each other. 

A flute played the song of a loon through the radio. It was accompanied by the rhythm of waves crashing onto sands. The moonlight above sparkled across the water below and lent a smoky dull glow to that forest beyond.

Together they were silent - talking was not required - their bodies did all of the talking already.


End file.
